


Luke and Alex cross wires

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard [171]
Category: Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	Luke and Alex cross wires

  
**players only. backdated to April 2014. takes place while Luke is working and Alex is in preproduction for The Legend of Tarzan.**

_warning for borderline con non-con, use of the word rape and discussion of contracts and consent_

Alex's training regimen for _Tarzan_ is grueling: a hideous no-dairy no-sugar no-flour no-alcohol diet, 2 hours of cardio every morning, 6 hours of agility and strength training, an hour to himself, and 2 more hours of cardio every evening before he knocks off and heads home. Interspersed with all that physical fitness he works with both a diction coach as well as a dance instructor – the last less to teach him to dance (thank fuck) and more to train him until his physical mannerisms effortlessly mimic those of a proper Victorian-era English gentleman.

If it weren't for the blessed fact that he gets to go home to Luke every night, he thinks he might just tell Dark Horse Entertainment to take their $180 million budget and go fuck themselves.

It's way later than expected when Luke finally walks through the door. He hopes Alex has eaten because he's certainly not up to making much of anything tonight. He locks the door behind him, drops his bag by the front hall table and peeks into the living room where his husband is half passed out on the couch looking as exhausted as he feels. "Rough day?" he asks, leaning down for a kiss before settling on the cushion's edge.

"Hmm? Yeah." Alex scrubs a hand over his face, trying to regain some semblance of consciousness, and wraps his legs around Luke's middle to pull him closer. "Are you good? You're late."

"Yeah, I'm fine, tired, we just ran long," Luke says, noting his husband's state of half-dress, his cock giving a half-hearted jerk which alone is a sign of how completely wiped out he is. "Did you eat?"

"A few hours ago. I'm starving." In contrast to the urgency of his words, though, Alex holds out his arms to his husband. "Come here."

Luke curls in against Alex, hugging him tight, his face lifted for a kiss before he presses in close to his chest again. His bare chest. God. His cock giving another slow twitch. "I can make a stir-fry," he says. "We have the meat and veg from last night and the rice from the night before that."

On cue, Alex's empty stomach grumbles. But, "Want you first," he mutters, pushing Luke back enough that he can unzip his jeans, revealing his full erection. Some days even his rigorous training regimen can't totally suffocate his libido. Thank fuck for his boy.

Luke wants it but he doesn't. He's just so fucking tired and hungry and tired... "Can't we eat first?" he says, the words out of his mouth before he can censor them.

Alex blinks, and looks up at his boy like Luke has suddenly started conversing in tongues. When he speaks, his own voice is quiet, his tone almost curious. As if perhaps he's giving his lover a chance to retract his words. "What did you just say to me?"

"I asked if we could eat first," Luke says softly, quietly. "I'm exhausted and I'm hungry and I _want_ to have sex with you. I'd just like to get some energy into me first."

It all sounds very reasonable when Luke puts it that way, very normal, and for a moment Alex considers... But, no. He and Luke agreed long ago that they didn't want to be a so-called normal couple, that they both wanted something more. Now he sits up and points at the floor. "Hands and knees."

Luke starts to protest but he really doesn't even have the energy for that. It's easier to simply strip down, his clothes tossed aside, and go to all fours.

Alex begins to withdraw mentally. They've never before reached this point in their relationship, sexual incompatibility at a moment when the lines are so blurred between the two halves of their life together. He kneels behind his boy, then spits into his palm and spreads the scant moisture over his cock. Then he spreads Luke's ass cheeks and penetrates him, slowly but relentlessly pushing through all resistance.

Luke whimpers. It hurts. He's prepped, as always, but not since this morning and there's _only_ enough left to just barely ease the penetration and not let him tear.

For sex that could be construed as non-consensual, the act is surprisingly gentle. Alex doesn't thrust, doesn't drill into his boy's sweet body. Once he's fully buried he keeps up the slow slide, in and out, his hands clasping Luke's hips. His mind wanders, his arousal is slipping, and he is shocked to find himself fantasizing about fucking Luke instead of focusing on this moment right now.

_Mine to use_. It takes a few minutes, and Alex's rhythm doesn't pick up speed until the very end, when his fingers curl like claws and he spills his release inside his boy.

For long moments there's nothing to be heard but their harsh breathing. Alex slips out of his boy and remains crouched, fitting his hand over Luke's collar. He licks his lips, aware that somewhere in the abyss of his mind, the dam is close to breaking on a roiling sea of cold rage. Alex speaks quietly, every word bitten out. "If you want to renegotiate our contract, then you will talk to me about it like a man. Not try and whine your way out like a little bitch." A beat of silence, then he strides from the room.

Luke blinks and sits down, staring at the door through which Alex left. Tears sting his eyes but they're not only from hurt. They're from an anger that _almost_ matches his husband's. "Fuck you," he says quietly before rising to his feet, his jeans retrieved from the couch and his clothes pulled back on. He's damned if he's going to apologize. He could have fucking safeworded the way he's feeling instead of going to his hands and knees. Grumbling to himself, under his breath, he heads for the kitchen and starts making the stir-fry.

Alex grabbed a beer from the fridge on his way out to the balcony, and now he sits back in a lounger and pops the cap. He knows he'll have to pay for every single empty calorie in the gym tomorrow. But if this night is just the first of many, and he and Luke are in fact now doomed to a life of fatigued and miserable married-people sex, then goddamn it, he is going to have a fucking beer.

The stir fry doesn't take long to make and Luke divides it between two plates. He grabs a napkin and fork and dares to stick his head out the door, the plate held out in offering. "Do you want this?" he asks, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, mostly just numb at this point.

Alex reaches out and takes the plate without looking away from the skyline. He unclamps his jaw just enough to ask, "Will you join me?"

Luke's grateful for the invite and he nods. "I'll grab my plate," he says softly, going back for his food and a glass of water. Beer will only make him sleepier.

Stretching out, Alex props his feet up on the wrought iron railing. He takes a few bites with no real appetite, and waits for his husband to settle in next to him.

Coming back out, Luke takes a seat in the lounger beside Alex and starts in on his food. He really _is_ starving, his last meal over eight hours ago at this point, which makes stir-fry comprised completely of leftovers taste like the best meal ever as far as he's concerned. He shovels the food in, not caring what he looks like, just wanting to get something into him while he can.

Methodically, almost mechanically, Alex clears his plate. Setting the dish on the patio, he nurses his beer and watches Luke, studying his profile in the high summer sunset.

When Luke finishes his dinner, he sets his plate on top of his husband's. He finishes his glass of water and sits there, fingers wrapped around it. "What you said?" he says finally. "About our contract? That wasn't fair."

Alex really wasn't sure what to expect, but that particular statement would not have occurred to him. "Why?"

"I wasn't trying to renegotiate our contract," Luke says, staring blindly at the glass in his lap. "I was trying to follow it. I was letting you know I wasn't in a good place emotionally or physically."

_Fuck_. Alex tips his head back to rest against the cushion, and attempts a quick mental review of what exactly he and Luke promised each other. _Something something boy will volunteer information about his mental physical and emotional wellbeing so that Sir will always be aware of boy's mental physical and emotional health something blah blah..._ Alex cringes as his whole perspective of the evening changes. Does it matter whether he's with his husband or his boy if, regardless, it's rape? He swallows hard. "I'm sorry, Luke. I was wrong." And if ever words were inadequate for a situation, _damn_. "I was supposed to take care of you. I'm responsible for you."

"I could have said something more," Luke says. "I could have safeworded if I needed to," he points out, because they both bear some responsibility in handling this badly.

Alex's lips twist in a frown and he leans forward, elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. "I'm sorry." God, he's tired. Tired and hurting and more stressed-out than he's ever been in his life, and such a complete idiot that he's taking it out on the person he loves most. "I'm sorry. I– I won't." Pushing to his feet he stacks up their dirty dishes to take inside.

"Let me help with those," Luke says, rising as well, already reaching for the plates. But then he looks up at Alex and sees the anguish written so plainly on his husband's features and he sets them down again. "Can I have a hug? Please?"

Unsure just how a hug is supposed to help anything, Alex takes his lover into his arms nonetheless. And he clings, clutching Luke's shirt, his fingers curling into fists. The shudder that rocks through his body could never be credibly blamed on the warm summer evening, but at least with Luke he doesn't even have to waste his energy on pretending.

"I love you so much," Luke whispers, hugging Alex even tighter. "I'm sorry we got our wires crossed."

"I'm sorry," Alex whispers again, feeling like he's stuck on repeat. His head is starting to ache, blood seeming to hammer his skull with every heartbeat. "Thank you for dinner," he says, letting go and stepping back.

"You're welcome," Luke says softly, glancing at his watch. "Let me throw everything in the dishwasher and we'll go to bed."

"Yeah, all right." Alex's jeans are still unzipped and as he walks back into the flat he shoves them off altogether. He turns the taps on as hot as they'll go and steps into the shower, ducking his head to let water spill over him.

So it seems like they've made up but Luke feels even worse than he did earlier. He quickly washes the wok and puts everything else in the dishwasher, setting it to run since it's quiet enough they can sleep through it. He wouldn't mind having a shower too but he's not sure of his reception if he tried to join Alex and he doesn't want to take the time after. He wants to be in bed when Alex gets in.

Eventually the scalding pushes past Alex's limits of pain; he's never been particularly masochistic in the first place, but the urge to punish himself right now consumes him. And when the pain signals fade, his thoughts come screaming back. The thoughts of what he truly is, what he's revealed himself to be. Stepping into the bedroom, he rubs a towel over his hair. Contemplating their bed.

Luke comes into the bedroom and gives Alex a smile, covering for the worry he's feeling. He undresses and slips into bed, patting the space beside him.

Alex nods, but turns to hang up the damp towel and tidy the vanity. Brush his teeth. Mop up the wet spot on the tile floor and then lay out the bathmat so it will dry. Until he runs out of excuses and reasons to procrastinate. When he gets into bed he shakes out one of the soft throw blankets. "Are you cold?"

"A little, but you can keep me warm," Luke says, moving closer, into his husband's space. "I can see the wheels turning, you know," he offers quietly.

"Yeah." Alex shrugs it off. "I need sleep. So do you. Especially if they're going to keep you late again tomorrow."

"I won't be able to sleep like this," Luke says softly, shifting still closer, his arm wrapped around Alex's waist. "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at...? No. God, no." Alex unbends enough to slip his arm beneath Luke's shoulders and snug him against his chest. "I couldn't be mad at you. I'm just busy thinking."

"About what?" Luke presses a kiss to Alex's chest.

"Tonight."

"You said you're not mad at me," Luke says softly. "You shouldn't be mad at yourself either. We haven't really had that happen before and neither of us handled it well." He raises his head, looking down at Alex. "Can I suggest something for tomorrow night?"

Alex blinks, baffled by how easily Luke seems to be dismissing their evening. "Sure."

"Maybe tomorrow night I can bring dinner home with me and we can catch up and then I can clean up and come kneel by you and you can have me any way you want me," Luke suggests. "I'm really loving this shoot but it's exhausting and I can barely see straight when I get home, and you're working so hard too. I just think we need to take that bit of time when I first get home to eat and regroup."

"Yeah, you should do that," Alex says, fixating on the last bit of what Luke said, and ignoring the rest. "Take all the time you need."

"I just need to eat," Luke stresses again. "I just need to restore my energy." He pushes up a little and kisses Alex on the mouth. "It's all restored now," he says, pressing close.

"Uh-huh." Luke's voice, so beloved, can't compete with the guilty cacophony in Alex's mind, and it fades softer and softer until the words don't mean anything at all. "I want to sleep now," he murmurs. "Will you stay here?"

Fuck. Luke stares at Alex for a moment. Everything in him wants to push but he knows there isn't a thing he can say tonight which will resolve this. "Of course, I will," he says, giving Alex another kiss, soft and warm but still firm for all that. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

* * *

When Luke wakes in the morning, he sneaks out of bed to the kitchen, closing the door behind him, and calls in sick to work. He feels mildly guilty but only mildly. As important to him as work is, Alex is more important and he knows he'd be useless on set anyway with last night hanging over his head. That done, he takes a quick shower, pulls on some clean pajama pants and a t-shirt and, grabbing his husband's phone, turns off his alarm about 2 minutes before it's set to go off. Phone in hand, he straddles Alex, waiting for him to wake and then shows him the phone. "Your turn," he says. "I already called in sick."

"What?" Alex rubs his eyes and half sits up beneath his lover. "You're sick?" Terror floods him instantly. Jesus, he actually _broke_ Luke?

"No, I'm not," Luke says quickly. "But I know I'd be useless today. I want us both to stay home and spend the day together. Talk about last night." He holds the phone out again. "Call." Then smiles. "Play hooky with me."

"I..." Alex is still too dazed and sleepy to muster a coherent argument, and when Luke smiles at him it just breaks down his thought processes anyway. "Yeah. Okay." He accepts the phone and hits speed-dial for his trainer, then neglects to give the man an excuse for why he's bailing on the day. "Nah. Just. I'll see you tomorrow." He looks at Luke. "We both called in, and neither of us is sick?" They are both scrupulously careful with their careers and professional opportunities, and Alex doesn't recall that they've ever done this before.

"We haven't both been working at full tilt before while living together," Luke points out, taking the phone from Alex and setting it on the night stand. "We need the break." He smiles again and kisses Alex. "Put some comfortable clothes on. I'll make us a nice full breakfast."

"...Okay." _Fuck_. What the fuck did Alex just get himself into? He gets up and into the shower, his movements mechanical, his body working on auto-pilot. Because his head is too full of Luke's avowed intention to _talk about last night_. Fear coils tight in his gut, cold as a snake.

In the kitchen, Luke does up eggs, bacon, home fries and pancakes. Makes a pot of coffee using freshly ground beans. He knows the meal's at odd with Alex's training – and his work – but they can go for a walk later. Burn it off. That's if he can't get Alex to burn it off another way sooner.

Alex's stomach grumbles and he echoes it with a soft groan when he enters the kitchen, shoeless but dressed in trackpants and a t-shirt. "I don't think this is how payback is supposed to work," he mutters, pulling a canister of protein powder from the pantry. At least they're never short on kale.

"What are you doing?" Luke asks, piling eggs on two plates. "This is for both of us. You're having a cheat day. Or at least a cheat breakfast. Sit down."

Raising an eyebrow, Alex considers. And then he realizes it's just easier to keep on doing what Luke tells him to, just as he has been since the moment he was woken up. Sitting down in a chair by the window he waits obediently, in uncharacteristic silence.

Filling their plates – and mugs – Luke brings everything over to the table in two trips before taking a seat. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't remember any of my dreams, so I think that's good." Alex traces his fingertip along his fork. "What about you?"

"Not really. I was worried about you," Luke admits.

"That's fucked up." Sipping at his coffee, Alex makes a face at how bitter it is without his customary metric ton of sugar. "I hurt you last night. You shouldn't be worrying about me."

Luke grabs the sugar from the counter and sets it in front of Alex. "You didn't hurt me. You fucked your boy when he wasn't really feeling up to it. It's not the end of the world."

"Christ," Alex says under his breath, and looks up to meet his lover's eyes for the first time all morning. "Do we have to do this? This thing where I tell you there's a problem and then you get mad and tell me it's not a problem and that you're an adult and you think for yourself but then we never actually get back to discussing the part about how it's a problem?"

"We do if you're going to insist that what happened last night is a problem," Luke says bluntly. "But you can tell me why you think it's one."

"Because I fucking raped you," Alex snaps. The words hang in the air, thick and ugly.

Luke blinks hard at that, shocked. "No, you didn't."

Alex lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I don't... even... I don't... Fuck, Luke." He drops his head into his hands. "What the hell would you call it?"

"I'd call it exactly what it was: having sex when I didn't feel like it," Luke says. "Look, our contract may say I'm supposed to let you know how I'm doing but it also says that I'll put your pleasure and desires first and that I'll be ready to service you in any way at any time and that I accept the responsibility of using a safeword when necessary. It _wasn't_ necessary."

Alex shakes his head before Luke even finishes speaking. "No. You can't simplify this like that. You told me you didn't want to, and I took you anyway. That's completely different from you servicing me even when you don't feel like it."

"Would you have stopped if I'd safeworded?" Luke asks.

The response should be automatic, but Alex's brain skates back to the moment in question so he can actually consider it. "Yes. I mean, yes, of course I would've stopped. I didn't even enjoy it when I was doing it."

"Then you didn't rape me," Luke insists, leaning in. "In most cases, I wouldn't argue that absence of a safeword equals consent but it does in ours. Because of our relationship, our contract, how well we know each other. I've safeworded before, you know I wouldn't hesitate. If you were really hurting me, physically _or_ emotionally, I would have safeworded."

Alex stares down at his hand on the table, splayed fingers contrasting with the dark wood grain. Water stands in his eyes. When he speaks again his voice is low, rough. "I shouldn't have done it, Luke. You, out of all people... It was wrong."

"Fine," Luke says softly, rising from his chair to go around to Alex. "It was wrong. But it wasn't wrong to the level you're making it out to be." He crouches in front of his husband. "I love you so much. You're everything to me. We crossed wires last night in a spectacular way given that we barely even squabble normally but I _wanted_ to have sex with you last night," he smiles. "I was just so wiped out, I just wanted to eat first so it could be something where I gave you my all."

It's not fair. It's not fair, Luke can win every single argument they ever have just by looking at him that way, and Alex will maintain to his dying day that it's simply not fair. Tentatively he reaches out and touches his husband's face, scared that the vision before him might instantly shatter into a million specks of dust. "You know you shouldn't trust me. Deep down, you know."

"I know no such thing," Luke says, snorting softly. "In fact, deep down, I know the exact opposite which is why I'm your boy, your husband and why we're about to start a family together." He takes Alex's hand and presses a kiss to the knuckles. "Now we can spend the rest of the day talking about this or we can take advantage of the fact that we have a whole day off and finish our breakfasts and then go back to bed. And I don't mean to sleep," he adds, playfully waggling his eyebrows.

Despite himself, Alex feels his lips twitch into a bare semblance of a smile. "Are you sure, though?" he asks, his usual teasing nature rising slowly to the surface once more. "We could go at least six more rounds of this. I could yell, you could smack me, we could throw shit and go all cold-shoulder on each other, then yell some more... But, you're saying that you want to skip right to the make-up fucking?"

Luke laughs and nods. "I most definitely want to go straight to the make-up fucking."

"I don't know," Alex heaves a sigh and gets to his feet. "We can try, I guess. Maybe you can talk me into it." He's trying hard - really! - to let go of all the fear and confusion he's felt in the past 10 hours, but regardless he's not yet ready to play the aggressor.

Their breakfast forgotten – because this is _way_ more important than eating – Luke wraps his arms around Alex's neck and kisses him, once, twice and again, before starting to pull him down the hall towards their bedroom. "I want to ride you," he whispers. "I want to open myself up for you, take your big hard cock inside my greedy aching hole and fuck myself on you until I'm desperate to come..."

Alex shuts his eyes with a little moan. "Jesus, Luke," he whispers, feeling his cock swell full in mere instants. "When you talk like that..."

"What?" Luke grins, leaning in to lick across Alex's lips "Do you like it when your boy talks dirty?"

"It drives me crazy, as my boy damn well knows," Alex growls softly in reply, and lays his thumb on Luke's bottom lip. "All that filthy language coming from this perfect angel mouth."

Luke takes that thumb into his mouth, his gaze hot on Alex's as he sucks it like he would his sir's cock.

Alex lets him go for nearly a whole decadent minute, unable to take his eyes off his lover. But his arousal won't long tolerate standing still, and he pulls his hand away and strips off his t-shirt. Then he places his palm on Luke's chest and starts pushing him backwards. "Get on the bed, boy. I want your ass open now."

"Yes, sir," Luke nods, grabbing the lube from the nightstand. He's already prepped but more can't hurt, especially after last night. He kneels on the bed, pops the tube and slicks his fingers, working two easily into his ass with a soft moan, his gaze still locked on Alex.

His hot gaze rakes over his boy, and Alex shoves down his trackpants. He cups his erection and slowly strokes, with a murmur of, "Take your time. We'll go as slow as you want." His eyes, though – they send a very different message.

A shiver of lust runs through Luke and he pushes a third finger into his hole, stretching himself open for his sir, his cock bobbing in front of him.

Mindful that Luke said he wanted to ride him, Alex lies back on the bed and props his head up on a couple pillows. The view is just as good from here.

Four fingers and Luke moans, fucking his hole open for his sir, his cock dripping, his gaze flickering between Alex's face and his hand. "Please, sir..."

"Christ, look at you," Alex drawls, staring now at his boy's hole. _His_ hole. "So fucking sloppy. Wet and gaping and empty."

Luke whimpers. "Please, sir... please let your boy fuck himself on your cock..."

"C'mere. Take it." Alex smirks, but his throat is dry with need. "Show me how much you love drilling your ass open with my big fat cock. How you're desperate for it."

Luke pulls his fingers free from his ass and wipes them on the covers, kneewalking over to Alex and straddling his hips. He reaches behind him, gaze locked on his sir as he lines up and presses down, moaning as the head breaches his body.

Alex lifts his hips to meet his lover, but he keeps it controlled, just a bit of assistance as opposed to outright taking. "Holy fuck, your ass," he groans softly, rubbing his hands restlessly over Luke's thighs. "So fucking greedy."

Luke only nods and moans again, cheeks and chest flushing as he sinks down, taking every last inch of his sir's cock.

Watching his boy in something damn near amazement, Alex smiles faintly. He slips his hand around Luke's hip, over the curve of his ass cheek, and lays one finger against his own cock.

Luke shudders when he feels the finger pressed against that already impressive girth. He whimpers, cock jerking and reaches back, spreading his cheeks wider, his hole stretching to take it in. "Oh, fuck," he moans, arousal sparking hard at the burn.

"Yes," Alex whispers, lifting his head to watch Luke's slow struggle to accommodate him. "You're so beautiful." He glances up now, to meet his lover's eyes.

"You make me feel beautiful," Luke whispers back, angling to take Alex's cock deeper, his movements still slow, still savouring each and every tinge of pain. Gifting his sir with his moans, the sounds of need and desperation he makes.

"This is mine," Alex growls softly, and slaps Luke's ass with his free hand. "All mine. Tell me."

"It's yours," Luke gets out, the slap spiking his arousal even higher, his cock jerking sharply. "Your ass, your hole, every inch of your boy, inside and out," he promises.

Keeping that one long finger in place for each drop of Luke's hips, Alex smacks him again. And again, harder, before he pushes up to suck one peaked nipple into his mouth.

The sound Luke makes then is barely human, his brain and body on overload. He drives himself down on Alex's cock and finger, intensifying the stretch, his cock smearing their skin with precome as he chants "yes, oh fuck yes," under his breath.

God, it's like fucking heaven. Alex feels his whole body flare with heat. He sharply bites his lover, then lets himself go with a shout.

"Please, oh fuck please, sir!" Luke begs, that bite and the hot rush inside him shoving him so hard up against the edge that he's terrified he'll go over without permission.

Alex digs his fingernails into Luke's hip. " _Now_."

Luke wails, coming so fast and hard his head – and the whole room – spins with it. "Oh, god, fuck," he moans, dropping his forehead to Alex's shoulder and clinging tight.

Hugging him just as tight, Alex combs his fingers through his boy's damp hair. " _Min_ ," he whispers, and this time his statement of possession isn't a demand – it's almost a prayer.

"Yours," Luke whispers, pressing a kiss to Alex's throat. Too wrung out to manage anything else.


End file.
